ary business was her way of gettin' even with me through you." He shook his head again. "Your Ma's a queer woman. She's got as much energy as a steam engine, but she never knows where she's goin', and she always thinks she's the only one with any sense. And my, ain't she hard . . . and unforgivin' . . . hard as a cocoanut!"
"She forgave you and took you back."
"But she's been aching to do that for years. That's the kind of thing she likes." His chest swelled under the yellow vest. "Besides, I always had a kind of an idea that she preferred me to any other man she's ever seen. Your Ma's a passionate woman, Philip. She's kind of ashamed of it, but deep down she's a passionate woman. If she'd had me about all these years she wouldn't have been so obnoxious, I guess."
The baby had ceased crying now, and, thrusting its soft head against the curve of Philip's throat, was lying very still. The touch of the downy little ball against his skin filled him with pity and a sudden, warm happiness. The poor little thing was trusting him, reaching out in its helpless way. He didn't even mind the things that his father was saying of his mother. He scarcely heard them. . . .
"I thought," said Jason, "that we'd cooked up that story about my memory for the Town and for old pie-faced Elmer. I thought she'd tell you the truth, but I guess she don't care much for the truth if it ain't pleasant."
Philip continued to pat little Naomi, more and more gently, as she began to fall asleep. In a low voice he asked, "You're going to stay now that you've come back, aren't you?"
